Silent
by Annie2
Summary: Skinner thinks about his armor.
1. Default Chapter

Silent By Annie Rated R Summary: Skinner thinks about his armor. Disclaimer: Want them all to be mine; alas it is not so. Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net 

Words fail me; therefore, I am silent. 

My interior walls are strong; self-made; impenetrable. 

The walls work both ways - if nothing can get in, then nothing can get out. Therefore, I am silent. 

But you get in, every day, spectacularly. You make the chinks in my armor, unbidden, and unaware that you do it. 

I hold my door open in dismissal of both of you, as a team. The wash of two scents, one male, one distinctly female, seeps through my walls, through the chinks you have made. I want to stop you and tell you how good your incense is in my body. The scents come in, the sights, the sound of your voice, speaking, when I myself am silent. 

The chinks, however, only work one way, in. 

When you defend your partner, from whatever nonsense he is spouting this day, I want to tell you how much I admire you, your courage, your faith and loyalty. Your unstated love. 

But words fail me, and I am silent. 

When you step from an elevator, so petite, more beautiful than the others, I want to climb my walls and tell you. 

They are insurmountable, and I am silent. 

If your voice is on the other end of my phone, I want to tell you I am glad to hear from you, desperately grateful that your time is mine, even though it is only from agent to superior. 

I am silent. 

And when I am home, alone, lonely, I want to call you, reach out through my self-imposed barriers, through the chinks you have unknowingly caused, and just ask you for your company, I am silent. 

But in the empty darkness of my room, I am shameless, and vocal. When my hands reach for myself, when I am so hot for you that a sheen of sweat covers my entire naked body and I have to throw the covers off in frustration that I am alone, then, in stark blackness, I can reach for you, I can imagine you are the one who is here, the one who touches, who pumps the very center of my being, both physical and emotional. Then I can call out your name, scream it if I want to. My walls crumble briefly, unknown to you, and it is your face I see as I give myself relief, your body I want to receive my orgasm. 

In the florescent real-life, words fail me. 

And I am silent. 

End Part 1

Part 2 


	2. Silent 2

Silent: Part 2 - Silence is not Golden By Annie Summary: Scully contemplates her boss's armor. Rated: R Disclaimer:  Still not mine. Feedback:  crehnert@ptd.net 

I contrive to follow Mulder out of the meeting, so that, as we reach the door of Skinner's office, I can steal one last glance over my shoulder. He has already returned to his work, dark eyes cast down to the papers on his desk, mouth tightly closed, voice silenced again for now. 

His voice makes my nipples ache, but it is always heard as business and not pleasure. As far as any kind of life is concerned, he is mostly silent, but his silence draws me. In stark contrast to my partner, who is able to ramble on endlessly about any given topic, Skinner seems to pull all the noise in around him and make it part of his inner stillness. Most of the time, I find his quiet restful, but occasionally I burn with the need to breach it. I want to make him gasp, want to make him moan, want to make him scream out my name as he comes. 

His silence is consistent, heavy in me, deafening in my heart. I think I would give anything to hear his unofficial voice. I think I would even sell my soul. 

As I move through my empty, silent evenings, I wonder what it would be like to hear his voice in my apartment, asking if I want a cup of tea, is there anything I want to watch on TV, commenting on our endless paperwork. I wonder what it would sound like ordering me to strip. 

Deep in the night, my hands stroke over my skin and I wonder how it would feel if they were his, if the weight of his hard, naked body crushed me into the sheets, if his firm-lipped mouth marked me as his own while hoarse whispers spoke of his desire. 

I wonder shamelessly how his voice would sound in my ear as he comes, or if he would moan his pleasure into my welcoming mouth, a different kind of speaking. 

But these thoughts are not appropriate, and although I can lay awake with need in my bed at night and imagine him speaking to me that way, in the light of day I realize it is not probable. I believe he is unapproachable. 

Even if I believed otherwise, I am not sure I could act, trapped as I am by silence of my own. Such silence was necessary for me at first, as I learned to command what respect I could from my partner and from others as a member of the X-Files. As time passed, anger and grief reinforced it, for who, after all, could listen and understand? It was better by far to walk alone, shielding myself as best I might. Now, if I wanted to speak, I do not know whether I could form words. Silence is not golden. 

The End

Part 3 


	3. Silent 3

Silent Part 3: Silence is Broken By Annie Rated R Summary: Actions speak louder than words. Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever. L Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net 

Silence is not golden - it's a tarnished, dull, gray thing, the color of smoke and ashes. I know, because desire burns. 

Mulder has preceded her from my office - I can tell that much without having to look up from the work I pretend to be doing. She glances back at me. I can tell that from the briefest hesitation of her feet at the office door. Besides, her glance burns me like a branding iron. I can feel it. 

I would lose my soul if I were to look up and meet her gaze just now. 

Her voice makes my cock ache, and sometimes in the middle of these meetings I want to leap across my desk, cup her beautiful face in my hands and order her to say my name. Not 'Sir', not 'AD Skinner. My name. Then I would order her to repeat it, and I would crush my mouth onto hers, devour my name as it is born on her luscious lips. 

I can't. 

I must. 

Soon, I will be demented from the sheer effort my silence demands. 

I put my pen down on the desk, next to the paperwork I have now ignored for an hour. 

The need pushes me - it has grown so much stronger than my silence, so much loftier than my walls. So much more important than anything I can think of. 

I pause at the door to the basement office, hand raised to knock. I am totally on edge now. Scully may be here, alone. I have already gone to the parking garage, pretending to take something from my glove compartment. In reality, I was checking the cars. Mulder's is gone; Scully's is still here. 

I may have a reprieve today, however. The thought occurs to me that they may have gone somewhere together. The office is probably empty. 

I have already knocked on the door, and I didn't even realize it. 

"Come in," wafts through the closed door and twitches my cock. The sight of her as I enter the room almost nauseates me with lust, turns my stomach inside out and upside down, and I hate myself. I have been a coward, something I despise without mercy. 

No more silence. 

"Agent Mulder?" I ask, in as even a voice as I can manage. 

She looks up from her partner's desk, gaze meeting mine evenly, and I force myself to stay in the room. 

"He's gone, Sir. He took some paperwork and went home. He said he wasn't feeling well." 

I am feeling a bit fevered myself, truth be told. 

I plunge in. "It's not really Agent Mulder I was looking for..." 

I stumble, and silence tries to overtake me again. I am not strong enough. Imagine that.Determination and desperation rise. I have to touch her soon. 

"Sir?" she questions, as I have stopped speaking mid-sentence. I want to jump over Mulder's desk and suck her tongue out. 

"Agent Scully, I've been meaning to.. I'd like to .." 

The hell with it. 

I turn around, unspoken wish suspended in the air between us. I lock the door.I turn back, to see her eyebrows raised in puzzled - something - surprise? amusement? expectation? It doesn't matter. I have stewed in my own hot juices too long. It has become a now or never thing.

"Sir..." she begins again, standing now in anticipation, and she seems a little breathless to me.My fantasy coming to life. 

I am across the room to her in no time at all. She starts to speak again, and I stop her by placing my hands on the sides of her face - her gorgeous face. I play it as I have envisioned it earlier. 

"Say my name!" I demand roughly, careful not to hold her too tightly between my hands. I would die before I would harm a hair on her head. 

She is breathing heavily, and her face is warm."Sir..." comes out for the fourth time in less than a minute. 

"No," I stop her. "My name!' 

"Walter," she breathes softly, and I can feel the muscles in her face and her jaw move as she speaks. 

"Again," I prompt her, a bit more gently now, as she is not resisting. 

"Walter," she begins, and never gets to finish. My mouth crushes to hers almost without conscious thought, and I swallow the rest of my name as it comes from her. She gasps in surprise, and I eat that, too. 

She has pulled away for just the barest fraction of a second, and then she is all mine; mouth engulfed in mine, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and I would pull her right into me physically if I only could. 

My hands roam, firm breasts, thin waist, my hands cup her buttocks and try to pull her into me even further.She is as hungry as I am. Her own hands explore, and she begins the deed by trying to remove my coat, tie and shirt, hands reaching in, exploring, hot flashes on my chest. I do the same, her business suit has got to go. We are finally both totally naked, I don't even know how, and every touch of her hands on my flesh is lightening striking me, electrifying my nerves. My cock is rock-hard and I think it was like that even before I kissed her. Must have been, as I cannot remember feeling it get that way, I feel just the fever in my brain, and the heat of the woman I am holding. Not even holding, crushing to me, I am surprised she can even breathe. I reach between her naked legs, and she is so hot and wet, all for me. 

"Scully," I whisper into her mouth, and she has released me from her kiss, because she is the one in control now. Somehow, she has taken over. 

She reaches behind me; breasts, hard nipples grazing against my skin, and I am so sensitized to her that even that light brush has made me moan. As soon as I realize what she is doing, I turn around and help, swiping my arm across Mulder's desk, sending pens, pencils, calendar and files flying across the floor. I almost laugh at the thought of doing it on Mulder's desk, but nothing is really funny right now. I am about to disintegrate. 

Scully pushes at me ineffectually. I am too large for her to move easily. "Sit," she commands breathlessly, pushing me again in the direction of the desk. 

Who am I to refuse? I sit. 

She practically jumps right into my lap, feet on the desk on either side of me, breasts in my face. I do not complain, of course, I simply feed. Suck the nipples and play with the wetness between her legs. 

She is gasping and I know she will come soon. I want to be in her for that, need to feel myself in her when she comes. And I have waited long enough anyway. 

I pick her up a bit higher, reluctantly releasing a nipple from my mouth, and position her just so. She has not objected to this change, and I know she wants me in her now. I hold her there, with the tip of my cock touching just slightly, until I can feel her trying to push herself down on it, grinding her hips and moaning because it's so close but not there yet. 

I pull her down roughly, and she gasps in delight, returning her mouth to my own. She grinds, I thrust and then she is coming on my cock, and she pushes me over the edge, bright lights, lightening exploding behind my eyes as I cry out her name, almost delirious. 

Silence broken. 

The End


End file.
